


endors toi (nsfw) || leorio paladiknight/reader

by moosetracksandscenechanges



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Oral Sex, Reader-Insert, Sexual Tension, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Sex, that didnt show up as a tag so im just gonna say Sleeveless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:48:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27284431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moosetracksandscenechanges/pseuds/moosetracksandscenechanges
Summary: Everyone has their reasons for becoming a Hunter.Stuck in the waiting room during the Hunter exams, you reflect not only on your own, but also those of a certain aspiring doctor who got you into this mess in the first place.
Relationships: Leorio Paladiknight/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 116





	endors toi (nsfw) || leorio paladiknight/reader

**Author's Note:**

> yo uh okay so this is an actual oneshot and i was really horny and uh i wrote this on the day me n my boyfriend officialized our relationship AND i came for the first time in four years?? so sorry about how long the buildup is, but god i uh... enjoyed writing this, hehe
> 
> hope you guys are doin well and you enjoy this one shot!! sorry i havent been working much on my jojos or naruto collections but new shit is coming eventually i promise O_O
> 
> this one was inspired by the song "endors toi" by tame impala
> 
> thank you for reading, stay hydrated ^_^ love you guys
> 
> love, moose <3

To be completely honest, ever since you laid eyes on him, something sort of… clicked. He was just the sort of person you found it easy to be comfortable around. It was strange, especially because of his motivations to be a Hunter; usually someone like that would have put you off, or seemed inherently disingenuous, but… you had to admit you trusted the man a few feet away from you. For better or for worse, he had your complete trust. Smart enough not to be brutally honest, dumb enough not to lie too badly.

You snapped out of your reverie at the sound of someone’s voice, and your hands freeze in their almost automatic movement, sifting through your belongings. The small child to your right looked at you rather quizzically, big blue eyes so full and empty at the same time. Swallowing air, you blink and make eye contact with your fellow candidate. “Pardon? I don’t think I caught that.”

“I _said,”_ the white-haired boy pointed inside your box, “how come you carry all these hair clips around?” You glance at the small box full of bright barrettes in all sorts of shapes, stars and hearts and whatnot. “Wouldn’t that just slow you down when you’re fighting someone?”

“Oh,” you stop to consider the question, picking through the old clips. Most of them are just little barrettes, mementos from your childhood, things to remember your family by; you don’t actually use these on the regular. It’s just hard to find the motivation to throw them away. You briefly set a finger to your chin, considering your answer. “Well, it depends, really. Sometimes my hair gets in the way, but I don’t want to cut it, or maybe I just can’t at the time. Then I just pin it back. Or say I’m running somewhere.” You pick up a bobby pin and flick it open a little. “I pull my hair back into a bun and stick a few of these in there, and it keeps it in place.”

“Can I try?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Wait, you want to use one of mine, or you want to try it out on my hair?”

Killua shakes his head. “No, I… I wanna see if it’s useful.” He tugs on the white locks and it strikes you as a rather childlike action coming from the somber young boy. “My bangs always get in my eyes a little. Gon never has that problem ‘cause his hair shoots straight up—” the kid next to you mimicked the shape and you stifled a half-hearted giggle. “But I was wondering if I could be more powerful without the hair in my eyes! Cause I like the length it’s at now and I don’t wanna cut it.”

Digging through the different colors, you can feel Killua’s vibrant eyes trained on you, probably waiting for a response, but you choose not to answer out loud, instead pulling out three small clips, one dark blue and the other two a shade of light pink that wouldn’t stick out too much but would also bring a bit of a brighter look to him. Cautious, you sift your fingers through his bangs.

Killua looks caught off guard, and you have to admit you’re surprised, too. For different reasons, however: you expected him to grip your wrist tight enough to shatter every bone there, his nails sharpened and ready to pluck out your veins, but no, he didn’t. That’s not what happened. The white-haired boy blinked a few times, evidently surprised, but he let you thread the clip through his snowy bangs, effectively pulling them back and leaving little stars and hearts of plastic and metal near his roots. “There,” you lean back and study his expression. “Whatcha think?”

He doesn’t say anything. You purse your lips and hand him a small cosmetic mirror, and he looks at himself like he’s trying to solve equations in his mind. 

Out of nowhere his inscrutable look fades a little to confusion, and then a giant grin nearly splits his face in half. “I can see better now,” Killua says softly, clearly excited. It’s enough to make you smile somewhat as well; the little bastard’s wearing down your defenses. “Can I keep these?” The tone of his question makes your words catch in your throat. What is it, happy…? No, that’s not the right word. He’s just an excited kid. “Please, (Y/n)?” You avert your gaze, focusing on his hairline as you remove the clips and his bangs drop back into place. “Alright, I unders—”

“I just have some white clips that’ll blend in better, s’all,” you mumble under your breath, nothing short of mortified at how this kid could play you like a fiddle. And you didn’t even think he realized it. His face lit up and you drop your gaze back to the small box, swiftly dropping a couple plain white triangle barrettes in the tiny alabaster palm that opened up rather quickly. “You can keep those.” Killua looks content enough, so you don’t understand why that twinge of regret stabs at your heart. Sighing, you acquiesce to your impulses and pick up a familiar clip. “And, uh… hey, if you want, you can use this one.” You hand it to him, pressing it into his palm as fast as you can, like it’ll explode if you touch it for too long. It almost feels like that’s true. “It was important to me for a while, but don’t feel like you have to protect it with your life or anything like that, okay? You’ll be getting more use out of these old things than I will, anyways.”

Killua studies your face intently, looking determined about something. The more you look into this kid’s bright little eyes, the more confident you are that you made the right choice. Then he closes his eyes and inhales heavily, that serious expression returning to his face. “It still means a lot to you, doesn’t it?” It’s not really a question. You let out a sigh, preparing to answer, but he beats you to it. “I’ll just make sure to take extra good care of it. Don’t worry. I got it.”

A bit shocked by the severity in his tone, you nod, unsure of what exactly you were agreeing to. This kid had something weird in his eyes; they were filled with casual murder.

“Thanks, (Y/n)!” The white-haired boy cheers and hops to his feet, running across the room. “Hey, Gon! Guess what I got…!” You watch him, feeling surprisingly drained from that encounter yet also somewhat rejuvenated.

That… No. You’re in front of other people. You can’t let all these memories flood back. Not here, not now. Some other time, when you have your own privacy back, instead of in this room with your newfound… The word _friends_ comes to mind, but you’re not sure how accurate it is. Friends… The five of you—excluding Tonpa—had barely known each other, but through this exam you were growing close. After all, you just had that embarrassing exchange with Killua. Everybody was friends with Gon. You were mostly sure the last thing Kurapika said about you wasn’t an insult. And Leorio—well… Leorio… 

Someone speaking directly to you shakes you out of your own thoughts again. You snap to where the voice was coming from, but he already knows to repeat himself.

Leorio adjusts the dark lenses of his glasses. “I said, it seems like you’re missing someone.” You tense and close the box sharply, your own clips deposited into the neatly organized boxes. How… astute. The fabric of your blanket bends and ripples into your tight-knuckled grip. “Damn, you’re out of it today, aren’t you?” His tone relaxes and you don’t find yourself as on-edge anymore. “You okay?”

“No,” you confess, and when your voice cracks your eyes fly open and your hand covers your mouth almost instantaneously. “No. I’m not. But when does that matter, really? So no, I’m not fine, but that’s why I’m okay.” You turn to glance at Leorio and the concern etched into his face makes you want to roll your eyes. “God, don’t look at me like that, jeez…”

“Alright, I’m coming over there.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, eyes falling shut. That’s an awful idea. But then again, he does always seem to make you feel better… No. You’re not supposed to feel better about this. “Okay, let me just grab my briefcase…”

“We’re not the only people in the room, you know.” Your nails dig into your knees. “I’m not going to open up that much. Not here and not now, at the very least. It’s common sense.”

“Yeah, I know.” Wait, hold on a second—he’s close. Really close. That familiar warmth crawls back into the edges and crevices of your face, heating up your ears and making your skin hot again. How come his arm’s draped over your shoulder like that…? It’s not even pervy or anything, it’s just… intimate. Somewhat… comforting. “But if you need to say anything, just whisper or say it quietly and I’ll be able to hear it.”

Why can he do that? How come he coaxes this out of you so easily? Whatever… You shut your eyes again, exhaling sharply. “It gets personal.”

“Trust me, I can handle it. Don’t worry.” That stupid cocky grin crosses his face again and he looks so dumb but it’s so endearing. God, it makes you want to crush something. The arrogant expression slips off his face fast, though; quicker than you expected. “Seriously, though—you can tell me. It’s okay. I’m not going to tell anyone else.”

You grip your blanket, hands starting to shake. “It’s why I’m taking the Hunter exams.” He’s listening, and… and you can tell. You take a deep breath, and continue. “I had this friend I grew up with. We were… extremely close. About two years ago, I realized I had feelings for him. Ten weeks ago, I told him. He didn’t… feel the same way. So I asked him why not, and all he said was that I wasn’t strong enough. I don’t want to talk to him again. I don’t want to be with him, or even _see_ that asshole again. I just… didn’t want it to be true.” You kept your voice quiet and inaudible to anyone else, even as it cracks. “So I trained because I couldn’t get rid of that little voice in the back of my head saying I wasn’t good enough, saying I was weak. I needed to prove him wrong, figured becoming a Hunter would do that and open up some other opportunities.” You take a quick glance at Leorio and his concerned expression and you have to look away or else he’ll see you crying. “He… He gave me that barrette,” you mumbled.

The premed doesn’t waste any time, wrapping you in a tight embrace. A sharp intake of breath, and he’s even _closer,_ the short spikes of his whiskers only slightly grazing the left side of your forehead. If you had to guess, you’d say he smelled awful somewhere under all that cologne, but surprisingly, its overpowering scent didn’t seem so bad this close. The lot of you had been running and exercising for several days on end, and you were sure you were grosser than ever, smelling like total shit, but somewhere along the line, he didn’t seem to mind.

“He’s an asshole. You probably know that already.” With your face pressed to his chest and collar, you could hear his words reverberate through his suit jacket. “But it’s still true,” he continues. The aspiring doctor squeezes your frame quickly before drawing back, placing his hands on your shoulders and making placating eye contact. “He’s still an asshole. (Y/n), you don’t have to be stronger than Killua or more persistent than Gon. You’re still strong. Hell, you’re stronger than me sometimes, alright?” He’s rather close, and… those stupid glasses he always wears, with the dark lenses? They don’t look as dumb as usual. No, they don’t look dumb at all. Because you can see the eyes behind them pretty well right now. The rich, earthy brown speckled with amber, burning like glints of gold buried deep under the soil.

You’re positive you’ve only ever seen him this impassioned when he’s talking about money. There’s a certainty in the way his jaw tightens that makes you feel something like… some vein of flustered. You don’t know what to think about it.

“Don’t worry about having to take care of anyone. Do it if you want, if we remind you of people in your family.” He’s dead serious yet still… he still has that amicable _je nes sais quoi._ “But you don’t _have_ to. You’re not the oldest here; you’re not the youngest, either. When you need help, we’ll help you. Because you’ve helped us. I think I speak for everyone when I say that you’re one of us now.” He adjusts his grip on your shoulders and you’re sure you might actually faint from _something._ “I understand if you don’t trust Tonpa. But the rest of us? We’ll be there for you. Hell, I saw the way you talk to Killua. You care. And you don’t have to hide it, because we’re not going to betray you.”

“Leorio…?” It’s all you can do to say his name, really; you’re too confused and weak to care about the tone of your voice. Why is he saying these things; why is he being so kind? He doesn’t have to… so why does he…? You blink again, staring into his brown eyes, until the glint in them changes drastically.

The aspiring doctor very slowly, very gradually, turns the darkest shade of crimson you’ve seen him yet. “Uh,” he manages to creak out the beginning of a sentence, “I, uh…?” At a snail’s pace, he removes shaking hands from your shoulders and attempts to wipe them on his slacks furtively; seeing as you noticed his actions, he was not successful. It’s not until you watch the blood flow all the way to the tips of his ears that you realize your mistake.

Scratching the side of your neck, you try to control how warm your chest feels. “Sorry, sorry—I meant, um, _Mr._ Leorio.” Exhaling internally, you expect him to go back to normal, but if anything, he reddens even further. “I—what—? Did I say something wrong…?”

“Um… Leorio is fine. You—you don’t have to call me mister,” he averts his gaze, swallowing hotly, adjusting his collar. You nearly choke on your own spit. “Just… _you,_ uh… just please call me Leorio, (Y/n).” A sheepish grin leisurely ambles its way onto his face. Then you glance down and everything clicks into place.

You slap the back of his neck _hard,_ catching him off guard. As you open your mouth, the blood rushes to your face, too, overheating your skin and making you think twice about everything. “God, you pervert.” _As if you can talk,_ you chastise yourself, calling out not only yourself but also the dirty thoughts about his hands and what they could do to you. “You throw away fifty hours just to finger a convict, and you go and get turned on from some girl you barely know calling you mister. You should be ashamed of yourself,” and even as you’re saying it, you mean it wholeheartedly as a joke.

Leorio’s cheeks finally return to light pink instead of bright red as he massages his neck, whining, “So my weakness is hot girls! Sue me. God…”

All the blood drains out of your face. “Huh?”

“Oh, don’t even pull that,” he rolls his eyes, turning to the side and shifting a bit further away from you. You adjust your shirt, feeling a bit… exposed. “You, (Y/n). You’re a cute girl my age, who’s just _miraculously_ one of those pretty criers, and I’m supposed to just hear you saying my name—no, basically _moaning_ my name—and have absolutely no reaction? God. You’re insane.”

“I was just trying to ask a question.” You glower at the ground. It feels like your entire face is on fire, little licks of flame creeping through every nook and cranny of your shaking and scowling expression. “Not my fault you got a boner over it.” Picking up a tiny slip of paper in the small box, you crumple it inside your fist.

“Wh—fine.” Leorio flicks his fingers a little, resting his chin in his hand and settling his gaze elsewhere. You blink a few times. Huh. You didn’t expect him to give in that easily. “You have a point,” he mumbles, and that’s when you notice Kurapika’s red-hot glare settling on the premed. You wave at the blonde. He nods in your direction with a strained expression.

“Either way,” you pull your jacket over your body, more self-conscious than before, “thanks for saying all of that, Le—um.” You catch yourself. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to say his name out loud from now on. “Thanks for saying all of that. You didn’t have to.”

Leorio glances at you with a wry smile. “I mean… it’s true. Better than leaving it unsaid.”

You curl one of the magazines into a roll and lightly smack his carefully slicked back hair with it. “Just take the compliment, perv.” A small grin to match crosses your face, and you look back up, expecting to see that comforting relaxed look on his, but he’s pale. Quirking an eyebrow, you follow his line of sight and nearly do a spit take.

People use the phrase “glaring daggers” a bit too liberally for your tastes, but there’s simply very little other ways to describe the way Killua’s staring at Leorio. Waves of malice curl around him like tendrils of steam, the colors in his azure eyes pulsating as if he was in complete control of which way they swirled. “Is he making you uncomfortable, (Y/n)?”

Blanching somewhat, you try to ignore Leorio’s pleading expression, the humorous aspect of it something you couldn’t focus on now. How could you tell a kid like Killua why you voiced discontent even though you didn’t actually mind Leorio saying those kinds of things? Wait: that’s it. You clear your throat and fake an easy smile. “Nah, it’s okay. Thanks, though.”

The bright smile returns to Killua’s face and you can hear Leorio audibly sigh in relief. “Good to hear.” The white-haired kid flashes you a thumbs up and returns to whatever he and Gon were up to. Arson, knife tricks, voter fraud, whatever: you didn’t really care. Those two could very well take care of themselves. Killua just… activated your older sister instinct, for whatever reason.

“That kid is fucking terrifying,” you hear Leorio mutter under his breath, and for some reason it’s enough to make you giggle. In your peripheral vision, you notice him turn to look at you, and when you raise an eyebrow, you realize he’s blushing again, but… it’s just a very pale shade of pink. He seems more frustrated than flustered. “Jesus Christ, (Y/n).”

Wh—he was _angry_ at you, now? Shaking your head, you grimace, pinching the bridge of your nose. Poor Kurapika, having to deal with this so often. “You know what? I need a bit of alone time. See you guys in a few.”

With that, you push yourself up from the low chairs and shuffle past Leorio, making sure to face him so he wouldn’t completely perv out. However, in overestimating your standing height versus his sitting, you achieved the antithesis of that goal: the premed who tried to stand up and make way for you accidentally shoved his face into your chest. 

For a few seconds all you can hear is the blood roaring in your own ears; you’re certain you must’ve been steaming like a tea kettle. Deep inhale, deep exhale. _One, two._ You calmly remove his head from your breasts, shove him back somewhat weakly, and stalk off to one of two bathrooms in the waiting room.

Leorio slowly, painstakingly leans back into his seat, covering his eyes with shaking palms.

That was far too close.

He holds his briefcase in his lap, too fried to even register Tonpa’s knowing smirk from across the room. Any minute now, he’ll get a lecture from Kurapika about “ceasing to respect a woman’s purity” or some bullshit like that, even though it’s actually completely obvious that for once, what had happened was an accident. An accident… a soft, warm, comfortable accident. Leorio grimaced in a mixture of stimulation and pain. Even the memory of what happened was making it worse. God, this position was making his knees start to cramp, having to keep the case set at a particular angle. Maybe… Leorio adjusted the position of his trusty briefcase, opting to press the meat of his palm into the cushion of the chair under him in an attempt to cover his excitement.

No, that wouldn’t hold up. Leorio let out a heavy sigh, head drooped. Maybe he could wait until everyone fell asleep and just sort out his _problem_ in the other bathroom. Yeah, that should work… Killua and Gon were starting to look tired, anyways, and Kurapika’s average page turn per minute ratio was beginning to drop. Leorio tightened his digits into a fist, almost shaking from the rampant thoughts attacking his system. 

It was already hard enough trying to control himself around you most days, ever since these exams started, but even before he took that wager, a little more than two full days in an enclosed room with _you_ in it was a daunting task. Thankfully you didn’t notice how he had been uncharacteristically quiet the past few hours, but to be completely honest, he had no idea what you were thinking most of the time. It was a miracle of modern science that you were comfortable talking to him.

God, it was so… intolerable.

Leaning over the medical table, your eyes tightly shut, you steadied your legs, lifting up the back of your hospital gown very slightly, the smallest view of your bare ass giving him _real_ shivers. “Is it going to hurt?” Your diminutive tone sounded just like a few minutes ago, the way you said his name… so vulnerable and exposed. So open.

“It shouldn’t,” Leorio hears himself say, a different edge to his voice that makes you shudder, and the sight of it almost brings him physical pain. Still, he adjusts his latex gloves and approaches you anyways, steeling himself. “It’s a routine medical procedure.”

“My health is important,” you murmur with that soft voice, almost like you’re trying to convince yourself, but… but like you’re begging him to keep going at the same time. He rests one hand on your waist, holding onto the firm muscle and soft flesh there. You’re so… warm. Palpable. So real. “I… I’m okay. Go ahead.”

He swallows, feeling his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “Alright,” he gets closer, “let me just…” Leorio parts the back of your thighs just a bit further, and you subconsciously arch your back. “Let me just… hold on… to your shoulders…”

Leorio jolts out of his daydream, sweat collecting behind his ears, his cock straining the fabric of his slacks as he tries to catch his breath again. Heart pounding against his ribcage, he runs a twitching hand through the hair he spent so long gelling back, a few stray strands hanging back down onto his forehead.

Most women… don’t have… prostates.

He winces and runs his hands through his hair again, massaging his scalp.

Thirty five hours, forty two minutes to go.

Gripping your hair tight enough to send tingles down your scalp, the lesson you’re supposed to have learnt here is that you should always look where you’re walking. But somehow, as you stare at yourself in the mirror, all you can think about is how close he’s been to you, and just how long it’s been since someone was that close. These _are_ the Hunter exams, after all. You’re aware you should expect to get physically close to people, but not… not like that.

And why did you even get like this about _him?_ You could maybe understand if it was the mysterious magician, with those angular features, or if it was literally anyone else your age, but… Leorio could just talk about these things to you, could just _say_ things like that to you, and you just… let it slide? You just let him say all that, even though you would have asked anyone else to stop ages ago.

Someone turned the doorknob in its place, pushing the door open. Your eyes widen—you were decent, right now, but still—it would still be embarrassing if anyone saw, if anyone saw you unraveled like this, it—oh.

“Wh—alright, sorry—”

It looked more so as if someone pushed him inside than that he entered of his own volition. Either way, you flattened yourself against the wall, cowering in the corner. He turns to look at you, and it’s something primal in his gaze that makes you either shiver from fear, or… or…

Leorio swallows nothing, and he’s watching you like a hawk. He sees your gaze move from his eyes to his lips to his jugular to the prominent growth between his legs.

...arousal. 

Words fail to describe what he wants to say, apparently, so you muster up what little dignity you have left and push yourself to a standing position. He closes the door.

“(Y/n),” he starts to speak, and you wait for him to finish his sentence, but he doesn’t. 

The silence pulses between the two of you, thick and heavy like his breathing, hard to swallow like the lump in your throat. 

It’s a small room. Too small. It pushes you together, it gets you too close. Or maybe… maybe you’re not close enough. You swallow your pride and take a single step closer. He flinches like you’ve punched him. “What are you doing in here, Leorio?”

The dark-haired man looks at you, his eyes completely glazed over with lust. It’s… definitely something, to be stared at like that, to feel so… desired. “I…” 

The sharp sound of a lock turning punctuates the air, interrupting his trailing off. 

He looks at the door, then back at you, and something about the pure exhaustion and the amount of restraint in his eyes breaks the dam and you can’t stop yourself.

You wrap your fingers around the knot of his tie and yank down, kissing him, hard. He yelps somewhat softly, far quieter than you expected, but he doesn’t resist. If anything, he’s the one pulling you closer, groaning as your lower stomach brushes against his tip. He’s gentle. He always is. Encouraging you to share more, protecting you subconsciously every time someone attacks the group, always moving in front of you… That’s just who he his. He wants to save. He wants to protect. His hands shake at your waist and you place yours on top of them, trying to steady his grip. Trying to tell him in no uncertain terms to hold you, to not be afraid. To know you weren’t fragile then and you aren’t fragile now. You’re staring into those eyes burning dark, his hot breath against your neck somehow giving you chicken skin, somehow sending those chills through your form.

“How long,” he whispers, and it’s almost too much. The way he sounds, the way he feels against you right now—you just—you just can’t. You shudder into his grip but he digs his nails into your hips, into the small of your back, his thumbs moving up your stomach and tracing your ribs. “How long,” he asks, repeating himself, “have you felt this way?”

“Does it matter?” You sound so soft and quiet and he stiffens in posture, but you palm him through his pants. “Really, does it even matter? I need you now. Do you… do you need me now?”

Leorio closes his eyes, almost like he’s praying momentarily, before removing his suit jacket and unbuckling his belt. He folds the top and his slacks neatly, setting them on the lid of the toilet, all the while staring at the ground with the same furrowed look.

When he’s finished, standing only in his button-up, undershirt, and boxers, he looks to you and jolts at your half-naked form. You’re very close. You’re so incredibly close. And you’re touching him, you’re stroking the veins of his cock through the soft fabric, you’re so close you’re shaking and he doesn’t think he’s wanted anything more than this in his entire god damned life. Your touch light as a feather sends shock rippling down his legs and he’s putty in your hands, he really is, he just—Leorio bit back a moan.

“Oh, my god, please just fuck me,” he whines, and you turn even darker red at his words.

Picking you up and setting you down on the counter, Leorio drapes your arms over his shoulders and tugs off your panties, barely pulling down his own boxers before slowly pushing himself inside of you. A yelp unbidden leaves your lips; it burns. Of course it does, he’s barely touched you at all, much less employed protective equipment or lubrication, but something about the friction, the pain—it stoked the heat gathering in your lower stomach even further. And he’s… he’s so… it’s very rigid, and even more so inside… Soft yet slick and hard at the same time. 

“Ah—ah, uh,” you struggle to form a sentence, somehow incapable of setting your focus on anything besides his dick inside of you, “um,” you hook your legs around his back, drawing him further in. A quick thought crossed your mind, before you dismissed it; he wanted to be a doctor, didn’t he? He doesn’t move or pull out and push back in or anything. You dig your nails into his sides, holding on tight. “You… protection?”

Something changes in his expression, and he doesn’t turn as dark red as earlier; you know damn well where all that blood went. “God damn it,” he finally stammers out, his knuckles white on the counter, “I’m so fucking sorry, I…” Leorio moves to pull out, but you squeeze his hand and he jolts a bit—the sensation almost rolls your eyes all the way into the back of your head. “Wh… what is it, (Y/n)?” The tone of his voice is low and gritty, libido lowering his tone significantly.

“Don’t… stop,” your other hand tries to push him further from behind, weakly making him sway only very slightly. “I’ve… I’m on the pill, just… you haven’t… have you…?”

Leorio hesitates, making eye contact, and you can feel all the red rush back to your cheeks, just… just at the way he’s _looking_ at you. How could you not? “No,” he murmurs with a wry smile that makes way for slight concern. “Have you…?”

You snort. “No, dumbass.”

“It’s not a stupid question, (Y/n).” He sounds so agitated. “If I didn’t seriously think you were conventionally attractive, I wouldn’t be able to explain why I’m balls deep inside you right now. God…” In your flustered state, you barely even process what he’s saying, you just press your lips to his neck, and it seems to neutralize his anger, the needy kisses you leave across his collarbone reminding him of the near-dripping condition of your pussy. “Oh—right, you’re… Right.”

His deft fingers working your clit, he slowly pulls out of you, slamming back inside with more force than you expected from his lanky frame. Him inside of you, thrusting hard, all the while somehow immediately finding your clit and holding you roughly was just… it all culminated to be far too much. 

Leorio groans, and it’s something so unrestrained and primal that the heat settles all over your body, skin overheating, grip on the counter top tightening.

The tendrils of over-stimulation creep up from your core to your stomach and sides and your eyes roll back into your head, all of today’s events relaxing every muscle in your body. The only sound you can make is a small gasp, and when your gaze focuses again, he looks more surprised than anything.

What you thought was going to happen was something along the lines of one of the children in the other room knocking on the door, or maybe another adult like the two of you. Some kind of interruption from the serenity of that moment, some sort of distraction. But nothing happened. Nothing broke you out of your calm, nothing disrupted you, really. It was just the two of you. Just you and the first person you really trusted for a long time.

“You came already?” Leorio’s tone isn’t one you appreciate. All of the over-stimulation accumulated and it was just… too much to bear. “I… okay… do you think you have another one in you? If not, then—”

With what little energy you can muster, you weakly lift yourself off of him, the warmth leaving your core a little shocking but nothing you couldn’t handle. Noticing him start to soften, you glance up at his expression, and you can almost hear his heart beat from the foot’s distance between the two of you. 

You stand straight, albeit somewhat weakly, and gesture towards the wall. 

His gaze tracks on you. On the glazed look in your eyes, on the fold in your knees, in the way you’re staring at him. The way you look so tired yet… commanding. So… domineering. Leorio backs up and you advance, so much strength in your gentle grip as you cage him in, so… easily dismantled, but… he didn’t want to push you away. 

The way your fingers trail down… You can see him, right? You can see the patches of unshaved skin along his jaw, you can see his lanky limbs, you can see how vulnerable he is, now. You can see all of it. And maybe if you reach behind him you can feel your own scratch marks, the ache and thrill of the moment, of the buildup he hasn’t released yet. You could feel the nervous sweat dripping down in minute amounts from the nape of his neck, you could see everything about himself he’d scrutinized endlessly in the mirror and hoped no one would ever stop to criticize. You could see all of it, but still you drew closer, closer.

Still you drew closer.

A hand rests on his right thigh, and just looking at your semi-parted lips makes him stiffen further. He should say something, right? But… but what? If he speaks now he’ll say the wrong thing, and you’re wordlessly caressing him right now. You’re set. What if he ruins everything? What if you just decide to walk out?

Then your tongue drags across his tip so tantalizingly slow, and he can’t suppress the groan coming from somewhere far down in his stomach. “Please,” he begs, and it’s almost worse than if his voice cracked; the deep tone makes you flinch and the sensation of your teeth scraping against his head is almost too much. “Please...” 

You push his length further into your mouth and that’s it. That’s when he caves. It’s a strangled sound and it’s so mortifying but the way your tongue feels against the underside of his cock is too much. It’s too much and he comes, you gag and almost choke on your own spit out of surprise, it’s a _mess_ and the cacophony is so gross and off-putting but for once in his life he doesn’t mind at all. The calm is there. The nut is on your face. The clarity fills his head. He’s present he’s safe you’re here and that’s why. That’s _why._ That’s it. 

It’s you.

As you’re sputtering on the ground, Leorio kneels down and starts to clean you up, a little, but you push away his hand and back up. Was he supposed to… hit you with it before it softened, like in the pornos, or…? 

“I—” He inhales. What can he say? There’s a thick silence, one that words don’t seem capable of cutting. “I’m sorry.”

The paper towel is in your hand. You scowl. “God, don’t apologize.” You glare to the ground as you wipe the cum off your face, and there’s something so aggravated about your movements, as if you’re trying to maintain some dignity you perceive as having lost. “I came before you, so… you’re fine, I guess.”

Leorio looks so lost. You catch yourself, resolving to glance up at him every so often but keep your gaze averted otherwise. Obviously he wants to do something, but you don’t know what. The tension is supposed to be gone. It’s supposed to be solved by the fact that he got his dick wet and you came. But it’s not. He’s just looking at you like he’s counting the time between heartbeats, and you don’t know for sure what your emotions want from you.

It’s gone now. You’re clean, now; as clean as you can be.

So what happens now? Do you go back with a noticeable ache between your legs, do you walk out hand in hand? The walk of shame, maybe… 

There are so many things you could have said. None of them leave your internal narrative. You turn your head very slightly, so you can gauge his reaction and figure out what to do next, but his lips are on yours and it doesn’t have the same energy as before. It’s… sweet, and nervous, and passionate. He cares.

He… cares.

Leorio tastes like sweat and copper but you don’t mind. 

When you walk out nobody else is awake. Whoever locked you in decided to unlock the door, but they definitely passed out; each of the candidates looks so peaceful.

Even under the blanket, his arm over your form is all the comfort you could possibly ask for as you drift into sleep.


End file.
